


when memory fails (i'll be here to remind you)

by ActuallyMe



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Confessions, F/F, Fluff, but not a lot, whump!Yaz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24943885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActuallyMe/pseuds/ActuallyMe
Summary: Yaz gets a concussion and forgets the last two days.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 10
Kudos: 53





	when memory fails (i'll be here to remind you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HalfBakedPoet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalfBakedPoet/gifts).



> Thank you Jo for always bringing me so much joy with your stories and making me laugh and cry and generally allowing me cathartic experiences. Your stories make me happy. I hope this makes you happy, too.

They’ve been running full pelt for at least fifteen minutes, and sure, Yaz is fit and the adrenaline helps, but her legs are burning, and there’s a pain in her side. She’s starting to tire when _finally_ the TARDIS comes into view. Thank God, she thinks, and the promise of safety gives her tired legs the extra boost they need to catch up to the Doctor.

They stumble into the TARDIS and the Doctor slams the door behind her. The alien dinosaurs aren’t giving up, though, jostling the TARDIS from the outside. Can’t they ever catch a break? She crouches down to catch her breath when there’s a particularly violent quake. She pitches forward and catches herself with her hands.

“Hold on, Yaz!” The Doctor yells, dancing around the console in that frenetic way of hers, pulling levers and muttering to the TARDIS.

Yaz doesn’t quite latch on to anything in time. Not for want of trying, she’s still recovering from falling and the TARDIS is already wheezing and she isn’t close to anything to begin with.

The motion flings her across the room, and for one terrifying moment, she’s soaring. Then, she slams against one of the pillars.

There’s a crack in her ribs and a smack against her head. A brief shock of pain, and then unconsciousness swallows her whole.

\--

It’s quiet but in a muffled sort of way. She can hear beeps and a quiet muttering, but it’s all far away, like a song playing in another room. Her chest aches and so does her head. It’s a colossal effort to open her eyes, but when she does, she finds herself looking up at frosted glass.

“Doctor?” She calls out for her friend on instinct. Her heart is already beating out of control when a hand presses against the glass. She chokes on nothing, fear making her panic.

“Yaz!” 

Oh! She knows that voice. Her breath evens out. The Doctor is here. She tries to move her arms, and the anxiety returns.

“I can’t move, Doctor.” She wishes her voice sounded calmer, but she can’t help it.

“Okay, gimme a sec.”

The sonic buzzes, and then the glass lifts.

“Sorry about that, when the glass is down, ya can’t move. To protect you.” The Doctor waves her sonic over her and frowns. “Your concussion is gone, but that rib is still healing.”

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Oh, a few hours? Five? Maybe six?” The Doctor’s cheerful facade drops. “Sorry, Yaz. I should’ve given you more warning with the TARDIS.”

Yaz tries to sit up, only to wince and lie back down.

“Let me help you,” the Doctor says, putting her deceptively strong arms around her and pulling her so she’s upright. It hurts a little, but the Doctor seems to know how to avoid the worst of the pain.

“Feels like I bruised a rib,” Yaz jokes, though the little laugh she emits costs her.

“You broke it, actually.” The Doctor is uncharacteristically solemn. “The medbay pod healed most of the damage, but you’ve woken up about an hour too early.

“Oh.” Yaz looks down at her torso and her stomach turns.

“Maybe we need to take it easy the next few weeks, eh? Oooh, I know the best place for it. There’s a beach down on Nova Terra, or the Treehouse planet! Or even—”

“Doctor?” She interrupts. God, her head hurts.

“Hmm?”

“Can we just rest in the TARDIS for a bit? I’m tired.” 

“Oh, Yaz. Of course, we can.”

Yaz can walk, it’s the breathing that hurts more than anything, but the Doctor still insists on accompanying her to her room. “M’alright, really,” Yaz tells her, but the Doctor shakes her head.

“You got hurt because I were careless.” There’s an ancient sorrow in those hazel eyes. She opens the door for Yaz and follows her into the bedroom. It’s a bit odd, not something the Doctor has ever done before, but she must just be worried.

Yaz sits on the bed and her heart nearly jumps out of her chest when the Doctor joins her. “I don’t even know what happened. We were picnicking near the spring. We were gonna talk, but I don’t remember getting hurt.”

The Doctor’s face falls. “Yaz, that were yesterday. You don’t remember our talk?”

She feels like she’s done something wrong with the way the Doctor looks at her, all heartbroken and melancholy. “Sorry, I don’t remember anything. We were eatin’ cheese and cucumber sandwiches, and then nothing.” Honesty is the best policy. “What were we gonna talk about?”

The Doctor’s gaze drops to Yaz’s mouth, and then straight back up to her eyes. “Uh. We can talk about it later. You’re still hurt.”

“Words aren’t going to make it worse, Doctor.” Besides, Yaz is curious now.

The Doctor huffs. “This were awkward enough the first time when I planned it,” she mutters.

Yaz’s heart sinks to the bottom of her belly. For a moment she thinks the worst, that the Doctor is kicking her out and the picnic was their last hurrah. But then, that doesn’t make sense. Besides, the sense she’d gotten at the picnic was that the Doctor was nervous, but that it was a nice kind of nervous. Even now, the Doctor is looking at her with intention and sincerity. She’s not going to send her away.

So what does that leave? 

Her breath catches as the Doctor leans forward. Surely not that. She’d resigned herself to her unrequited feelings. The Doctor can’t possibly reciprocate. That’d be ridiculous. But the way she’s looking at Yaz, that’s not just friendly.

The Doctor’s eyes search hers, and maybe she detects Yaz’s panic because she pulls back. “At the picnic. I told you how I felt.” She clears her throat.

“How you felt?”

“About you.”

“Doctor?”

The Doctor bites her lip, and Yaz is struck by how soft her mouth looks.

“I told you that I like you.” 

Her poor heart has been through so much in the past few minutes, but adrenaline courses through Yaz again. There’s no way this millennia-years old woman likes her. Yaz shakes her head. She must be hallucinating. Or she’s still under.

The Doctor is pushing into her personal space so slowly, giving Yaz a chance to back away, and she doesn’t mind; of course, she doesn’t mind. This is all she’s wanted for ages, ever since she began to travel with the Doctor.

Their lips meet.

The Doctor is sweet, soft, slow. Her mouth is firm; her hands lift to cup Yaz’s face. Yaz is dizzy but she manages to pull away, her face inches from the Doctor’s.

“Did I tell you how I feel?” Yaz wonders, dazed.

The Doctor nods, solemn in her affection. Yaz has never seen the Doctor so still.

Yaz leans forward to kiss her again, addicted to the way the Doctor is looking at her, but her rib has other ideas, and she cries out in pain.

“Easy,” the Doctor says, her hands grounding Yaz as they grip her arms. “Lie down.”

Yaz obeys, not because she’s particularly obedient, but because it’s the Doctor, and she’s just kissed her and told her she likes her, and what’s a girl to do when the object of her affections makes it clear she feels the same?

“What else did we do?”

“Hmm?”

“At the picnic?”

The Doctor grins and lies back on the bed with Yaz, curling toward her. “We kissed. A lot. Talked, too. Mostly, you just played with my hair, which were brilliant.”

Yaz frowns. “But… why don’t I remember? I want to remember.”

“Concussion. It were pretty nasty. It’s why I had to take you to the medbay. Well, that and your rib.”

“How’d I get a concussion? At the picnic?” She’s trying to picture the picnic, trying to force the memories, but it just hurts her head.

“No, no. Yesterday we were running from the Zanlutrons. Alien dinosaurs, you called ‘em, which is only half right, or not at all if you factor in that we were the aliens.”

“So, the Zanlutrons gave me a concussion and broke my rib?”

“Kinda.” The Doctor’s voice turns sheepish. “We got to the TARDIS, but the Zanlutrons were trying to topple her. So I rushed to get us out and didn’t give you enough time to hold on. You got hurt.”

“Oh.”

“If you’re tired, you can sleep. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise?” She asks, suddenly needy. It surprises her. Yaz isn’t a needy person, but knowing now that the Doctor feels the same way has awoken a part of her that she thought was long buried. Or maybe it’s the pain.

The Doctor takes her hand from where they’re lying on the bed and gives it a squeeze. “Promise.


End file.
